


seven minutes in heaven

by steponthegaslys



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Miscommunication, Phone Calls & Telephones, Speed Dating
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-07 03:20:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26500000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/steponthegaslys/pseuds/steponthegaslys
Summary: Max is the heir to a billion dollar business empire, yet can't get a date.Fortunately, Charles has the solution: Speed Dating. There's absolutely no way that can go wrong.
Relationships: Daniel Ricciardo/Max Verstappen, Pierre Gasly/Charles Leclerc
Comments: 20
Kudos: 102





	seven minutes in heaven

People thought that as the heir to a billion dollar fortune, Max would have zero problem getting a date.

It really wasn’t that simple though. Max was shyer than people gave him credit for - probably not helped by relative isolation as he was homeschooled in order to prepare him to take over Verstappen Logistics and everything else within his family’s business empire - and really, the people who he was introduced to through shadowing his fathers business meetings weren’t exactly the kind of people he was interested in.

Which is how he found himself in the back of an chauffeur driven car, his bodyguard Nico next to him, about to go all in on one of the most stupid ideas he’d ever had.

Well, it was more Charles’ idea than anything else. Charles was also getting nagged by his long suffering mother about it being time to settle down - though in his case it was down to the constant headlines about the Crown Prince of Monaco being caught in nightclubs with his tongue down various peoples throats, rather than general concern that he was going to get lonely.

So they’d signed up to a millionaire matchmaking agency’s gay speed dating night.

_Yeah_.

It had promised beautiful young single men, and the chance to get to speak to every single one of them. Charles had insisted that this was the most efficient way to find someone since they’d been picked out for them, and there was none of the pre-amble of trying to figure out whether or not they were straight, or in a relationship already.

As they pulled up to Monaco’s marina, and Max stepped out to the sight of the super yacht that this speed dating night was going to be held on, he felt his stomach sink. He wasn’t given much time to think about that though, because suddenly the Crown Prince himself was in front of him, tugging him by the arm towards the yacht much to the chagrin of his own bodyguard Sebastian.

“Come on, stop being a pussy,” said Charles, leading him along the decking towards the yacht. “Did you forget this was _speed_ dating?”

“The speed part of it doesn’t mean we need to get there fast, you dickhead,” said Max, rolling his eyes.

As they approached, Max felt his mouth go dry as he spotted the man who was stood at a table with a desk checking people in. He was tall, with a head full of thick dark curls, and tanned skin and he had eyes that seemed to sparkle when he laughed, and _jesus_ , Max knew he had to get a fucking grip before he did something stupid and embarrassed himself.

“Your Majesty,” the man grinned at Charles, and was that an australian accent Max was picking up on?

“Drop the shit Dan,” grinned Charles. “This is Max, the guy I told you about.”

  
“Consider it dropped,” laughed Dan. “Nice to meet you Max. I’m Dan, I’m in charge of tonight’s event. Do you know what the plan is?”

“Err,” said Max, willing himself to stop staring. Maybe this Dan guy wasn’t the model quality guy promised on the ads from the matchmaking agency - he had a crooked nose, and the corners of his eyes scrunched, and his smile was a bit too gummy and large for traditional beauty standards - but there was something about him. He was charismatic, and warm, and if the people here were half as nice, maybe he would find someone.

“I’ll take that as a no,” grinned Dan. “So you’re going to go up, there’ll be a room with your name on. We’ve lined up some dates for you all, they’ll all meet you in the rooms for seven minutes before swapping. If you think you’d like to get in contact with them again, you press the button on the table once they’re gone. If you don’t, you don’t. They’ll do the same with a remote they have, and if you both want to stay in contact, you get their contact details at the end of the night. Simple enough, right?”

“Yeah,” said Max. “Makes sense.”

“One more thing,” said Dan, offering them a box. “No phones. All phones go in here so that you have to actually go through with the process. Means you can’t be pressured into giving a number out.”

* * *

Max thought this was meant to be a less intimidating way of meeting people.

Sitting opposite Carlos Sainz, who Max knew was a member of some famous boyband or another, was actually intimidating as fuck, thank you very much.

It wasn’t like it was anything Carlos was doing was intimidating - just the situation. 7 minutes wasn’t enough time to warm up to people in Max’s opinion. Plus, the dates picked out by Dan and his company were all ridiculously attractive, the kind where you just had to stare at them for a moment.

“Maybe see you later,” said Carlos, blowing him a kiss as the bell rang, and with that he was off.

Max didn’t click the button, the same way he hadn’t for the past seven people. Charles was going to kill him after this, he could tell.

That was, if Charles wasn’t already dead by the end of this, since the next person to walk into the room was none other than Pierre Gasly, a french model and actor who he knew Charles was actually obsessed with. When Pierre had dyed his hair blonde, it was suddenly blondes that Charles was being caught in the back alleys behind nightclubs with.

Served Charles fucking right.

Pierre sat down in the chair opposite him, eyes bright blue and almost catlike in shape as he looked at him. Max thought he might prefer if they were brown, to be honest.

“You’re from Monaco right? Do you want English or French?” asked Pierre, raising an eyebrow. Max tried to bring himself to look at the way his tanned skin contrasted against the black turtleneck he was wearing, but his mind drifted to the guy from earlier and he had to stop that quickly.

“English,” said Max, feeling slightly vulnerable under Pierre’s piercing gaze. “If that’s okay with you.”

“I wouldn’t have offered if it wasn’t,” said Pierre, pouring himself a glass of champagne. “So what’s your name?”

“It’s Max,” said Max. “You’re Pierre.”

“You know me?” smirked Pierre. “I’m very honoured.”

“Your abs are currently plastered on billboards all around Europe, aren’t they? Has anyone so far said they didn’t know who you are?” asked Max.

“Not just Europe,” laughed Pierre. “And yes. Plenty of them have,” he said, looking over as the door opened and Dan slipped in.

“You forgot your button Pierre,” said Dan, shaking his head and handing it to him.

“You’ve not given me any reasons to press it yet, clearly,” joked Pierre, taking the remote from him.

“Or your jeans are just way too tight for you to fit it in your pocket. Honestly mate, how you’ve fit your dick in those is a miracle,” said Dan, laughing before glancing at Max and realisation that he wasn’t supposed to be joking with Pierre at the minute became clear over his face. “Anyway,” he said quickly, “I’ll leave you to your date,” he said, before quickly leaving the room.

“You know him?” asked Max, raising an eyebrow.

“Daniel? Yeah,” said Pierre. “He invited me to do this. He used to be a tattoo artist, and I went to get a tattoo and chickened out at the last second. He was really nice about it and we’ve been friends since.”

“Oh,” said Max, eyes widening. “But you’ve not…”

“Oh god, no,” laughed Pierre. “Daniel’s nice but… no. Never like that.”

“Okay,” said Max. “So how did this tattoo story go then?”

“This really isn’t the sexiest topic for a date,” sighed Pierre, but Max kept looking at him and after a few seconds Pierre rolled his eyes, sipped his champagne and continued anyway. “Okay, I wanted a tattoo. I was 18 and I just wanted one because I could get one, you know? So I booked in with Daniel, because I heard he was really good through some friends. I was in a model apartment in London at the time and he’d done something for one of the other guys.”

“London. Huh,” said Max interestedly.

“Anyway, I went to him, we’d planned out this tattoo for two weeks maybe? And it was only when I was on the table that I remembered I was really scared of needles and had a panic attack,” said Pierre, wincing at the memory. “He was really nice about it, said it wasn’t the first time it had happened. And we became friends after that. He gives himself credit for those billboards because I wouldn’t have been doing them if he had ended up tattooing me, you know?”

“So how’s he ended up working for whatever this is?” asked Max.

“Founded it himself,” said Pierre. “He thought that it’d be fun, you know? Plus I think he got bored of tattooing butterflies and flowers and things.”

“Was that what he was known for?” asked Max.

“Kinda,” said Pierre. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure,” said Max.

“Do you fancy Daniel? Because you’re asking more about him than you’re asking about me,” said Pierre, raising an eyebrow. “It’s okay if you do. I’m not offended in the slightest.”

“I -,” said Max, looking at him in shock.

“Tell you what,” said Pierre, shrugging. “Match me, and I’ll send you Daniel’s number when we get put in contact. I’d give it you now if I had my phone, Daniel’s been single for way too long.”

“He’s founded a matchmaking service. How’s he single?” asked Max.

“Ask him that,” said Pierre, grinning as the bell rang. “Remember the plan, okay?”

“Okay,” said Max, nodding. “Oh, and Pierre? If you like the guy in the next room, don’t be shy about clicking for him, okay? I have a feeling you’d match.”

“Will do,” said Pierre, giving him a wink as he left the room and went on his way to Charles'.

* * *

“I’ve decided,” said Charles, rubbing over his face as he walked towards the car he was going to share with Max. “I’m making embarrassing yourself as much as I did tonight fucking illegal. Nobody should have to go through that.”

“Don’t you have zero legislative power?” asked Max, raising an eyebrow.

“Shut up,” sighed Charles, getting into the car. “This is serious shit. I’m sure they’ll give me a pass.”

  
“What happened then?” asked Max. “How bad did you fuck up?”

“Ugh,” groaned Charles. “I didn’t really play it cool. At all. I basically went on about what a fan of his work I am the entire time.”

“His work is shirtless photos,” said Max, sighing. “He definitely knows you’ve wanked over those now.”

“You’re not making it better,” said Charles with a whine, lightly slapping his arm.

“You’re the one who said fanboy stuff instead of trying to pull, it’s not my fault,” shrugged Max.

  
Their phones buzzed at the same time, and they both got them out to look at.

Match results. _Shit_.

  
“Oh my god,” gasped Charles, looking at his phone in disbelief. “Somehow after all my bullshit, he still fucking matched me Max. _Pierre_ _Gasly_.”

“Nice, maybe he likes knowing you wanked over him,” said Max, laughing as he earned another slap.

“Did you match anyone?” asked Charles interestedly.

Max looked down at his phone, seeing the message with Pierre’s number in. Not that he’d pressed for anyone else - and if it wasn’t for the promise of Daniel’s number, he wouldn’t have pressed for Pierre either.

  
“No,” he said, shoving his phone back in his pocket quickly.

“Jesus christ man,” sighed Charles, leaning over and wrapping an arm around him to give him a squeeze. “I’m sorry.”

  
“Why?” asked Max. “I didn’t press for anyone. I was never going to match anyone, it was literally impossible.”

It was later that night when Pierre’s Whatsapp message came through.

**Pierre: as promised here’s his contact** 💫 **@Daniel Ricciardo**

**Author's Note:**

> i'm over on tumblr as @pierregasiy if you wanna yell at me :)


End file.
